The longer I play
video games, and the more I continue to look at them critically, the
more I begin to see ideas and concepts that crop up repeatedly.
Though they come and go, most reappear often enough that they can
almost always be worth discussing. After playing through Drakengard 3, a sequel to one the craziest, darkest games I played as a
teenager, I noticed that there was one otherwise minor element that
only grew irritating because it occurred several times over the
course of the game.
Drakengard 3 seemed
to love having its cast of characters acknowledge its own
problematic game design in their dialogue. The practice, known as
lampshade hanging, is about as old as fiction itself. In all other
forms of media, from books to TV and movies, it is commonly used to
point out and diffuse narrative tension by pointing out imperfections
in the logic and/or internal mechanics of a story. However, the
differences between gaming and other forms of media make this
practice less tolerable.
Chief among them is
the inherent difference between a passive medium and an interactive
one. When watching a movie or a TV show, the audience is not actively
participating in the events of the narrative. Rather, the characters
on screen are dealing with problems, with viewers merely acting as
outside observers. Therefore, whenever some event enters the story
that requires the hanging of a lampshade, it is the characters in the
story that are affected, not those watching it unfold from the
comfort of their living room.
In an active medium
like games, this is no longer the case. Video games have their
players actively take part in the events in question, changing the
dynamic at play. Whenever a sufficiently “immersion-breaking”
mechanic appears, then it
is the player who will ultimately need to deal with it. This is the
difference between Spider-man getting amnesia and losing his combat
prowess in a comic book versus doing the same in a video game. In a
comic book, the reader, as an outside entity, can look forward to
seeing how he and any accompanying characters deal with this problem.
Players of a video game attempting that same trope will need to be
the ones who handle getting through this problem as the amnesiac
superhero. This does not necessarily have to be bad, as it could
serve as a good excuse to use the game's systems in new, refreshing,
and interesting way.
Drakengard 3 shows
an example of what happens when this goes wrong. Over the course of
the adventure, protagonist Zero will encounter floating platforms
that she will need to traverse in order to progress to the next area,
in a game where most of the time is spent killing enemies in a Devil
May Cry-style beat'em up. After the first few occasions, she and her
companions begin to point out these sections by stating things like
“I'm not a fan of all this precision jumping.” and “More
jumping? Whose is the asshole who designed this place.” While it
seems to be another of the many gags the game uses to balance out the
otherwise dark nature of its plot, the act of highlighting how dumb
and annoying the floating platforms are is meant to add humor, much
like Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon attempted to do with its tutorial. What
both of these examples fail to realize is that although they
acknowledge the inferiority of these mechanics, as a player, one
still has to go through the sections in order to progress. Seen in
that respect, the gag quickly goes from funny to irritating.
Yet, this is not
the only reason why lampshade hanging is a more tenuous prospect in
video games. When a developer feels that need to point out that one
of their mechanics is “bad,” or at least annoying, it implies
that they are aware of how irksome said mechanics are. Otherwise,
they would not have been able to bring it to the player's attention.
On its own, that fact may be insignificant. It is the conclusions
that one can draw from that statement, and the questions it raises,
that make it so damning. If the developers have this knowledge, then
why would they not alter these mechanics so that they are not as
bothersome as they are? Alternatively, why include them at all?
Plausible and rational answers to these inquiries do exist, but to
raise the question in a player's mind is unwise, because it seeds
doubt in the designers'a ability, eroding the willing suspension of
disbelief. Again, this is only true because of the interactive nature
of video games. Other mediums don’t require any work or input on
the part of their audience.
The same precision
jumping example from before can just as easily be used to represent
this point, but Drakengard 3 has other examples that illustrate it
just as well. In one of the missions towards the middle of the game,
the player, as Zero, is attacked by a Cerberus mini-boss. Once that
enemy is defeated, and Zero attempts to move on to the next section
of the level, the door remains sealed and another Cerberus enemy appears. One of Zero's allies reacts by saying, “I fear
they've discovered Lady Zero's weakness, a dislike for repeating the
same task over and over again.” This is meant to point out how
silly it is to participate in the same battle two times in a row
against the same exact mini-boss. Despite this, it made me question
the game designer's reason for making the choice to have two
back-to-back Cerberus fights. Was the whole point to just set up that
one punchline? Were they also attempting to pad out the section with
some filler content? The fact that characters point out this little
problem make it obvious that it was not an accident, so what was the
point?
Now, I do not mean
to insinuate that Drakengard 3 is a bad game. Instead, it is
emblematic of a tendency games have when trying to inject a little
levity. In these circumstances, it is extremely tempting for
designers to intentionally include ill-fitting mechanics that are
common to its contemporaries, then point them out for a laugh.
Tempting as it may be, this is a mistake. Attempting to make jokes in
this manner will often serve merely to bother the player, rather than
make them laugh.
2 comments:
Giving Drakengard the benefit of the doubt, since most likely several of the story points and level design elements were derived from a lack of budget necessary to create much more than dressed up corridors, I would say it's trying to be a little more clever than funny with this technique.
I felt while I was playing that the whole game was quite cynical in general, seeing how all of the cast were depraved and driven by dark goals and how it lavished in it's own violent tendencies. Matching that sensibility with the fourth wall breaking dialogue I felt more like it was trying to criticise gaming than simply make a joke about it, making the player do boring and thoughtless tasks on purpose to intentionally frustrate them.
I'm not saying it fully succeeded in sending a meaningful message with that but it's the impression I got and I kind of liked how it added to the overall nonchalantness of the game's tone.
That's another really good interpretation of Drakengard 3, and one I mostly agree with. I do appreciate how self-aware it tended to be, much like the first game was.
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